Yes, That Dilfer! With an AFC Championship win over the Raiders, much-maligned Ravens quarterback Trent Dilfer moved a step closer to the ultimate prize

He got crushed like a beer can at a pregame tailgate, collapsingunder 600 pounds of silver-and-black wrath. Curled in the fetalposition, ground into the grass by Oakland Raiders defendersWilliam Thomas and Darrell Russell at his own four-yardline--where else did America expect Trent Dilfer to be? Yet atantalizing twist awaited: With the Raider Nation clamoring forhis scalp, Dilfer, the Baltimore Ravens' ridiculed quarterback,sprang off the turf and stunningly seized the moment.

Baltimore was locked in a scoreless tie with Oakland early in thesecond quarter of the AFC Championship Game on Sunday, but Dilferwas, in his own, warped way, exulting in the agony. He's a playerwho prides himself on his willingness to absorb punishment,saying that "by getting up and bouncing right back, it shows theguys on defense you can take the best they've got to give. Theythink they're getting the better of you, but you can turn thataround and demoralize them when they close in for the kill."

That's why Dilfer was strangely giddy as the Ravens huddled intheir end zone. He told his teammates, "Keep the tempo up andwe'll draw them in. They'll blitz again, and then we've got 'em."Turning to veteran tight end Shannon Sharpe, Dilfer added, "I'mjust waiting for that matchup we've been looking for. Don'tworry, it's coming."

Two plays later Dilfer delivered an off-the-Richter-scale jolt.Facing third-and-18 from the four, the 6'4", 229-pound Dilferdropped back five steps, stared down an Oakland blitz and firedthe pass of his life. Sharpe, lined up in the right slot in aspread formation called Rocket Right, caught the ball in front ofstrong safety Marquez Pope at the 12, blew past late-arrivingfree safety Anthony Dorsett and blasted into the clear. By thetime the Raiders caught up to Sharpe, he was in their endzone--and the Ravens were on their way to a 16-3 victory and thefranchise's first Super Bowl appearance.

So deal with it, football fans: Trent Dilfer is going to SuperBowl XXXV, and he knows exactly what you're thinking. True, he'sriding the coattails of Baltimore's record-setting defense, and,yes, there are plenty of reasons to wonder whether he's worthy ofsuch good fortune. Dilfer, who signed a one-year free-agentcontract with Baltimore last March, concedes that even if theRavens beat the New York Giants in Tampa, the site of the SuperBowl, he has no idea whether coach Brian Billick will ask him toreturn in 2001. (Billick is noncommittal on the subject.) Then,without a trace of sarcasm, Dilfer adds, "I want my legacy to bethat I was the quarterback of the team that won the Super Bowl inspite of its quarterback."

The rest of the NFL may not know what to make of that statement,but let's just say that the 28-year-old Dilfer has something toprove--about toughness, perseverance, honor and self-sacrifice.Appropriately, he'll attempt to do so in Tampa, the city where hemade his claim to shame. After the Buccaneers took him with thesixth pick in the 1994 draft, Dilfer, despite going to the ProBowl after the '97 season, became known mostly for what hewasn't: neither an especially accurate or mobile passer, nor aman adept at carrying a team. As coach Tony Dungy developed adominant defense, Dilfer became the somewhat-deserving scapegoatfor the Bucs' offensive ineptitude.

Last January, Dilfer--a man who has taken more hits, literal andfigurative, than any other quarterback of his era--was released.Baltimore signed him to be a backup to Tony Banks, whom hereplaced midway through the season amid the Ravens' maddeningfive-game stretch without a touchdown. Now, says Baltimorefullback Sam Gash, a nine-year veteran, "We love the guy.Whatever anybody has said about him and whatever he may lackphysically, Trent Dilfer is a great leader, one of the best I'vebeen around."

Dilfer's leadership skills aren't easy to quantify. On Sunday hecompleted 9 of 18 passes for 190 yards, with one interception.Take away the 96-yard strike to Sharpe, the longest scoring passin NFL playoff history, and Dilfer would have had a double-digityardage day. Such noxious numbers are often cited as evidence ofhis inferiority, but there's a single statistic he offers as arebuttal: In his last 15 starts, including four last year withthe Bucs, Dilfer is 14-1. "I'll be the first to admit that I'vehad the luxury of playing with great defenses during thatstreak," he says, "but I've also been smart enough to do whateverit takes to win those games, even if it meant playing ugly."

There's a beauty to Dilfer's approach that only those closest tohim can appreciate. "Trent sets a great tempo for our offense,"said right guard Mike Flynn after Sunday's victory. "When thingsgo badly, he doesn't get rattled, and he's good about not blamingothers."

A few lockers away defensive linemen Rob Burnett and LionalDalton lauded Dilfer for his willingness to apologize toteammates in the wake of his failures. "It's a first for me tohave a quarterback like that," All-Pro left tackle Jonathan Ogdensaid. "He could be caught up in numbers and looking good, buthe's obsessed with winning, and that's perfect for us."

For example, the previous week Baltimore had a mere six firstdowns in its 24-10 divisional playoff victory over the TennesseeTitans, and Dilfer completed only 5 of 16 passes. However, hemade smart plays at key times, notably a 51-yard hookup withSharpe that set up a game-tying touchdown. Several times Dilferhelped the Ravens to escape from deep in their own territory,thus keeping the defense from having to play on a short field. Hemissed only one snap after absorbing a vicious helmet blow to thechest by Titans linebacker Keith Bulluck in the third quarter.Most important, Dilfer, who averaged nearly 15 interceptions perseason from 1995 through '99, avoided making any big mistakes.(He has just the one interception in 48 postseason pass attemptsthis year.)

"The Titans' whole mentality is to win the turnover battle,"Dilfer explained last Saturday. "They're coached to expect it andthrive on it, and when the game gets further and further alongand that turnover still hasn't come, they're crushed. There aretons of layers like that in football that people don't see."

Late in 1997 Dilfer's detractors never saw the eight painkillingshots he had injected into his badly sprained right ankle or theeight Vicodin pills he swallowed daily--all so that he couldcontinue not only to play in games but also to practice. The Bucswere on the verge of their first playoff appearance since '82,and Dilfer wasn't about to desert his teammates. He made 70consecutive starts (second only to the Green Bay Packers' BrettFavre among quarterbacks at the time) before Dungy benched him inthe seventh game of the '99 season. When Eric Zeier took thefirst snap in Tampa Bay's 20-3 loss to the Detroit Lions,Dilfer's stomach knotted up. "It crushed me," he says, "becausethat streak was my ace in the hole. You could call me a badathlete, call me a choker, but no matter what, you had to say Iwas a tough player who was always there for my team."

Not much has come easily to Dilfer, who says he's selfish bynature. He embraced Christianity as a sophomore at Fresno State,but his quest to sublimate his ego--at least on the field--hasplayed out like some sort of heavenly black comedy. The NFL isfull of quarterbacks who say they'll do anything to win, but fewhave had to do so with everyone repeatedly doubting theirabilities.

Last Saturday, as he sat on a bench outside the Ravens' hoteloverlooking San Francisco Bay, Dilfer pondered his curious placein the football pantheon. "I'd rather figure out the best way towin football games than be the player of the week, and I reallymean that," he said. "There are guys who can do both, but I'mdefinitely not one of them. I want my genius to be that I waswilling to do anything and endure anything to get what I wanted.If I do, it will challenge people to decide if quarterbacks trulyare measured by whether they win or lose."

The Bay Area horizon was as clear as Penelope Cruz's skin, andDilfer pointed across the water to Oakland, where the Raiders andtheir vaunted history awaited. "I'm so psyched that Jim Plunkettwill be at this game," Dilfer said, referring to the man whoquarterbacked the Silver and Black to Super Bowl victories afterthe 1980 and the '83 seasons. "He's the player I think that I'mmost like: a huge character guy who struggled early, never quitand could care less if he's mentioned on the list of alltimegreats. All he did was win."

Then Dilfer took a deep breath and pointed southward towardAptos, his hometown 49 miles down the coast. An athletic standoutand party animal in high school, Dilfer didn't achieve innerpeace until he earned a scholarship to Fresno State and struck upa friendship with a swimmer named Cassandra Franzman. They wentout once as freshmen, and she fell asleep twice on the date. Buteventually their shared spiritual growth led to love, marriageand three children, daughters Madeleine (four) and Tori (almosttwo), and son, Trevin (three).

Trent, a onetime scratch golfer, said he has reduced his life tofootball and family. "I was lying in bed with Cass four nightsago, totally exhausted, and she was helping me study my plays,"Dilfer said. "When I went to turn off the light, she said, 'Look,no matter what happens on Sunday or beyond, I want you to knowthat no one can work any harder than you do as a football player,a father and a husband.'" He looked at the water, paused forseveral seconds, then stared down at his Quicksilver jeans. Whenhe looked up again, he was crying. "She didn't know how much itmeant to me that she said that," he whispered, and then his voicetrailed off.

Dilfer cried even more heartily on Sunday afternoon as the finalseconds ticked away and teammates offered hugs, thanks andcongratulations. The moment belonged to him as much as to anyone,and with the Tampa angle waiting to be pounded into publicconsciousness, it was his chance to thump his chest and yell, Howdo you like me now?

There was a time when Dilfer couldn't have resisted such aself-congratulatory setup, but now restraint came easily. Heflashed back to all the occasions when he'd been humbled--thebenching, the belittling, the beatings--and thanked God for themettle and perspective that had come of it all. "If you'rewilling to face adversity and let it hit you in the face, it'llmake you stronger, as a football player and as a person," he saidafter the game. "You just fight and fight and fight until theywon't let you fight anymore."

An hour later, as he prepared to leave the locker room, Dilferpraised his former and current coaches, saying, "Tony Dungy hashad as much of an influence in my getting here as anyone, andBrian Billick has completed the equation. My teammates--man, Ilove them more than I can say."

In the Network Associates Coliseum parking lot, three dozenfriends and family members were waiting to greet Trent with arobust cheer. Cass met him first, just outside the locker roomdoor, and slapped a bear hug on him that encompassed a decade'sworth of emotion. Teammates and well-wishers converged to get apiece of him, but he had no intention of breaking free. For theNFL's most amenable bull's-eye, this was the sweetest hit ofall.

COLOR PHOTO: PETER READ MILLER Yes, That Dilfer! Plays against Oakland like this pass to Qadry Ismail moved the Ravens' Trent Dilfer closer to the ultimate prize [T of C]COLOR PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN BIEVER GOOD ENOUGH Dilfer did his thing against Oakland, making one big play and avoiding momentum-turning mistakes.COLOR PHOTO: DAVID E. KLUTHO BACKBREAKER Michael McCrary and the rest of the Ravens' defense stymied the Raiders' Rich Gannon.

"I want my legacy to be that I was the quarterback of the teamthat won the Super Bowlin spite of its quarterback."